


One More Mark

by Merfilly



Series: Quintesson Verse [5]
Category: Transformers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-20
Updated: 2011-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 15:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An introduction to Orion Pax</p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Mark

It was the third cycle running that a mech had plunged to destruction from atop the girders of the new landing platform that was being built. To most on the ground and around the other platforms, it was merely an obstacle to work around until the recyclers came and scraped up the parts to be sent back to the factories, and either reused or smelted.

To one mech, cast in the vividly visible colors of blue and red, it was one more case of injustice. The makers cast them in molds, and when life actually took hold, threw those frames to the tasks they had been built for, as if they were nothing more than tools to use and discard.

The mech designated Orion Pax found all of it to be a fatal insult. He boded his time, rising in responsibility so that he had gained a true designation, taken from the cargo lanes he was bound to, and watched, added up the grievances.

His Spark, that mysterious globe of energy within his chest, told him that this was not the way it should be. Mechs and femmes were not things. They were sentient beings, with emotions and the ability to dream like any other being that came through Cybertron's busy ports, seeking to purchase more drones or to trade other goods with the Quintessons.

Anger grew thick in Orion's Spark, and he saw each deactivation as one more mark against the makers. Somehow, he had to find a way to change the lot they had been given by their makers. He knew that many bound their mechs and femmes with hard-wired protocols, making it impossible to exist for too long without being in the presence of their maker's House, but others, like himself who belonged in the public domain, did not have such.

The rebellion would have to come from Orion's ranks, he saw early on, and wondered if this Champion he kept hearing about was a common drone-worker like he was. Did the Champion feel the same burning rage deep inside him, and know that change had to come?

Did the Champion have an answer for how to save the House-bound mechs and femmes? Did he even care?

Thoughts like those filtered through his processor as he made two cautious signals. Smaller mechs, ones who were charged with sorting the more fragile freight coming into the port slipped free of their duties, and investigated the fallen mech.

Small parts, never enough to be noted, just thought to be totally destroyed in the fall, were swiped into holding receptacles. The two returned to duties before their overseer could note the discrepancy, and before long the remnants of the fallen mech were swept away, destined to be forgotten by all who had ever known him.

Orion, however, did not forget. Orion added the mech's designation number to his growing file of reasons he would see the Makers destroyed and driven from Cybertron. As he remembered, his rage grew, boiling quietly in the hard work of keeping the port running, fed by every piece of knowledge that reinforced Orion's inherent beliefs: all sentient beings deserved freedom.


End file.
